Darkest Delusions
by Claytonator
Summary: Merlin and Arthur are perfectly happy, until tragedy strikes. As Merlin retreats into himself, Arthur is faced with the fear that he won't be able to save his boyfriend from his own mind. But the heart can weather the storms if it tries, and Arthur will try if it's the last thing he does. TW: Mental illness, character death. (Not a main character.)
1. Chapter 1

(**A/N: **I need to say a massive thank you to O, my beta who helped me get through this fic. It took ages to write, but she kept me on track and pointed out my plot holes. Any remaining mistakes are totally mine!

I don't have experience with this sort of mental illness, and I did do research, but if you feel I've misrepresented anything, or that anything I've written is offensive, please don't hesitate to let me know. I'd rather you told me than went away disgruntled!)

_(Present day)_

"Arthur Pendragon to see Merlin Emrys."

The receptionist types a couple things into the computer, eyes flicking over the screen in front of her. She grabs a visitor's pass from a pile and pushes it across the desk with a signing in sheet.

"Here you are, sir. Sign in and it's just through those doors there. One of the wardens will take you to him."

"Thank you." Arthur knows the protocol and where he's going. He's done it before, too many times before. He scrawls his signature along with the time and clips the pass onto the lapel of his suit jacket. He didn't have time to change out of his work clothes.

A warden he recognises, Emily, he thinks, meets him and they stride along the white corridor in silence. The whole place is eerily silent. It's visiting hours, so most of the patients are in their rooms, instead of the day room. They come to a halt outside one of the many doors lining the hall they're in, and Emily holds it open for him. Arthur steps inside, thanking her with a nod and a small smile. She smiles kindly in reply and props the door open as she walks away. _'Damn protocol,' _Arthur thinks bitterly. Crossing the room in three strides he sits down on the bed.

Merlin looks up at him from where he's huddled in the corner by the headboard, like he's only just realised Arthur has walked in. His eyes brighten a little in recognition and he reaches out his hand from where it was curled around his knees, close to his chest, searching for Arthur's.

Their fingers meet and clasp each other tightly, revelling in the warmth of each other's grip.

"Hey," Arthur whispers into the silence with affection in his voice, as light and playful as he always tries to be. Merlin smiles at him a little, quiet as usual. For the thousandth time Arthur wonders if he did the right thing, bringing Merlin here. It's a niggling worry at the back of his mind, renewed every time he visits. He squashes it, like he does every time, telling himself that this was the only option he'd had. Besides, Merlin had always been quiet. This was no different than normal.

"The doctor said you're making good progress. You should be able to come home soon. That's good, isn't it?" Arthur tries to encourage a conversation, forcing himself to sound positive. It _is _good news after all, so why shouldn't he share it with Merlin?

"Yeah." Merlin breathes the word so quietly that Arthur nearly misses it.

"I'm so proud of you Merlin. You're doing so well. Just keep going, we'll get there."

"Yeah."

So it was one of _those_ days. Well, at least they were preferable to the days when all he did was cry, or shout, or try to convince Arthur to break up with him. Arthur could deal with these moods. He reached out to cup the pale man's face in his strong hands, forcing him to look into his eyes.

"Hey, Merlin, I mean it. We'll get through this _together_. Because I love you."

He says it very matter-of-factly, and then steals a quick kiss on the lips, although it's nothing like the ones they used to share. Merlin doesn't respond, but he lets himself be pulled close to Arthur, and he curls up against his side, arms sliding under the suit jacket to cling around his torso. Arthur shivers slightly. Merlin's bare arms are cold and bony, but he doesn't complain. He rubs his hand up and down Merlin's back, comforting and soothing.

He's so absorbed in this repetitive motion that he almost doesn't catch what Merlin says, his words slurred by encroaching sleep.

"I miss you," he whispers before his head droops onto Arthur's chest, his eyes closed.

Arthur kisses the top of his head, murmuring the same words back to his boyfriend, even though he can't hear them. His hand is still rubbing Merlin's back, and he doesn't let it stop, in case its ceasing will wake him up.

He _does_ miss Merlin. He misses the way he used to laugh, his eyes crinkling up and his mouth open wide in a grin. He misses his bed hair, how it would stick up at comical angles until Merlin saw himself in the mirror and hurried to brush it. He misses the meals they would cook for one another. He misses their ritual movie nights. He misses cuddling on the sofa. He misses goodnight kisses and sleepy morning sex. But most of all, he just misses Merlin. _His_ Merlin, the one who loved him just as much as he loved him back.

He loses track of time as his mind wanders, lost in memories of a happier time, and sighs heavily when he hears the night warden's squeaky footsteps approaching the room. But he still doesn't let go of Merlin, not until the very last second, when the warden actually enters the room, holding Merlin's meds.

Merlin glares at the pills resentfully, but he doesn't make a fuss when he is told to swallow them down. The shadows under his eyes haven't been helped by his nap in Arthur's safe embrace. He hugs goodbye as he stands up. It's time to leave. The night warden signifies the end of visiting hours.

Arthur whispers into Merlin's ear before pulling away.

"I'll see you tomorrow, love."

One final squeeze and he leaves the room, joining the other visitors who are making their way down the corridor to sign out and return home.

Pulling away in his car, Arthur glares at the words he can see in his wing mirror. It was a necessary evil perhaps, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He stares at the sign for as long as he can read it.

_Camelot Psychiatric Hospital._


	2. Chapter 2

_(Present day)_

Sighing heavily, Arthur turned the key in the door to his flat, opened the door and flicked on the light. He went through the motions unthinkingly as muscle memory guided him through setting his keys down on the sideboard, shrugging off his suit jacket and throwing it into his room on his way to the kitchen, switching on the radio to fill the place with noise. It was just gone eight and he hadn't had a chance to eat since a rushed sandwich in between meetings at lunch - some seven hours ago.

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, he opened up the fridge, trying to work out what he could possibly conjure up out of the measly contents. He'd have to go shopping tomorrow. Thank God it was the weekend tomorrow. He turned to the cupboards instead, wondering if he had any pasta sauce in those packets which you just heated up. He didn't have the energy for anything else.

Loosening his tie, he set the pasta to boil and the sauce to heat (he hadn't even bothered looking at what flavour it was - he was past caring) and walked out. He entered the bedroom, picking up his suit jacket and hanging it up as he stared at the double bed, where it was still rumpled from that morning. Rumpled on one side. The rest of the room was devoid of any mess which made it seem like home - much like the rest of the house. Everything had its proper place, and Merlin had firmly believed that place was wherever he wanted it to be. Arthur sighed again. He could only stand untidiness when it was _Merlin's_ mess which littered the flat. But now it just seemed like it was a robot rather than a person who lived there.

He could hear the bubbling water of the pasta from where he stood and returned to make sure it didn't boil over and leave him with more mess to clean up. He ate it quickly, not really tasting the tomato sauce as it burned his mouth. He shoved the dishes into the dishwasher and set it to run despite it not being full. Washing up by hand took too long.

He paused for a moment, physically exhausted, and braced himself against the countertop, his shoulders hunched up and tense. The inane chatter of the radio continued blaring out into the silence of the empty flat. It was _too_ empty without Merlin. Shaking himself out of his daze and his dark thoughts, he returned to the bedroom once more. Lance would kill him if he turned up at the pub still in his suit.

Merlin tossed and turned under the cool white sheets. He couldn't sleep. Again. He knew telling the warden wouldn't do anything - he was already on the highest dose of sedative he could safely take. It didn't work - only when his body was so physically exhausted that he couldn't stay awake any longer would he be able to sleep peacefully. Like when Arthur had visited earlier. Merlin found himself wishing he hadn't slept then, because now he wasn't going to be able to sleep all night.

It wasn't that he was scared anymore - even if he hadn't gotten used to it, the drugs made sure of it. It wasn't pleasant, but he could just about stand it now. The doctors were right - he _was_ making progress. Mornings didn't mean gibbering wrecks and nights didn't mean restraints anymore. He curled up into a ball again, cocooned in his duvet, pressed up against the wall. He drew his knees up and clasped his hands around them. He could hold this position as long as he needed to, the duvet covering his head to muffle the noise, his eyes squeezed shut if it got too bad. He knew it was coming. It always did. He just didn't know when.

Lance waved at Arthur, beckoning him over to the large table he was seated at as the blond man entered the pub. There was one seat left, between Morgana and Gwen and Arthur dropped into it gratefully. He was about half an hour late, despite having been so organised earlier on, because he'd gotten lost when the road works made him find a new route to their regular haunt. Lance slid a pint of beer across the table, having bought it in advance of Arthur's arrival.

They met like this every week, the five of them. Leon, Morgana, Gwen, Lance and Arthur. They'd always met up like this, right from the first week they'd been in uni together. Since then, Arthur had dropped out in their second year to help Uther in the Pendragon business empire after a health scare had forced him to lighten his workload and rely on his son. Leon had entered the police force, while Lance was still slaving away at his medicine degree. Gwen had started a small business in conjunction with Morgana, selling handmade jewellery online. The group had expanded when Merlin and Arthur had begun dating, and it had swelled out effortlessly to include him. In some ways, it felt like Merlin had always been there. Apart from the last few months. The last few months when the group had returned back to its original five.

Leon and Morgana were getting ready to leave since they were visiting Leon's parents at the weekend and needed an early start. Morgana rested her hand on her brother's shoulder and squeezed sympathetically as she walked past him towards the door, a sad smile on her face. She always had been able to see past any facade he put up.

Lance, Gwen and Arthur chatted quietly for a bit, about this'n'that, before Lance decided it was high time someone mentioned the elephant in the room.

"Mate, I keep telling you. It was the right thing to send him there. He wasn't safe, not after - well, after what happened. He's making progress isn't he?"

He was quiet but firm, saying exactly what needed to be said, not what Arthur wanted to hear.

"Yeah. Yeah, he is. It's just- when I visit him and he barely says a word, it feels like he'll never be normal again. It just seems so hopeless sometimes."

Gwen reached out and clutched his hand. Arthur was one of her best friends, and it hurt her to see him hurting like this - even after The Incident.

"Hey, we don't blame him for what happened, especially not after everything he's been through. And I know it's rough, and you miss him - we all do - but he's getting help. Surely that's what matters, right?"

"I guess so. He _is_ making progress. He can sleep through the night sometimes now, and he hasn't been violent in, what, over a week? If he keeps going like this, it shouldn't be too long before he can leave."

They'd nearly finished their drinks by this point, and it was getting late. Neither of them particularly wanted the hangover which would might come with another round, so they called it a night and got ready to leave. Darkness had fallen, and there was a light drizzle as they crossed the car park where Lance told Gwen to ahead and get out of the rain whilst he had a word with Arthur.

"Look, you ever want to get out of that flat, you're always welcome at ours. We've always got a spare bed for you if you want it."

"Thanks Lance. I'll be fine, but thanks anyway."

They both knew this was Arthur's way of saying that he wouldn't hesitate to take up the offer, but he was notorious for how stubborn he was when it came to accepting help from people. It was a trait Uther had given him, and one he couldn't seem to shake, no matter how much he wanted to distance himself from his father.

They said goodnight and drove off into the night, going their separate ways.

It was about midnight or so, right in the deathly silence of the night, when it came. Merlin braced himself, ready for the onslaught that would likely not let up until the dawn broke over the horizon and the wardens came with his breakfast and morning meds.

"It was your fault. All_ your _fault Merlin. You could have saved me - and you DIDN'T!"

The figure in the corner of the room was making its way towards him in slow, halting steps. Its voice hung in the air, the screams of rage echoing off the walls.

"I _trusted _you! I _loved_ you! You were supposed to _save_ me!"

The figure was barely a metre away now, leaning in, threatening. Her voice rose and fell in a terrible wail, the perverse cadence of her voice painful in the otherwise silent room.

Her face was lined with grief, the sort of face that might have been pretty at one point, but was now distorted by the rage and pain with which she was shouting at Merlin. Her brown hair was matted to her head with dried blood, and her face was marred with injuries. A bloody nose here. A black eye there. A busted lip which broke open as she roared at him in pure fury, teeth bared. Her dress was torn and stained with blood and dirt. Her dragging feet left marks on the white floor - Merlin couldn't tell if it was muck or something more sinister.

Her wails escalated until they were deafening, a chorus Merlin hated but couldn't escape, and her terrible lies seeped into his bones, a poison with no antidote.

"How could you let me die like that? Your own _mother_! How could I call you my _son_? _What son lets his own mother die_?"

She was so close that Merlin could smell her rotten breath as she attacked him, over and over again, never letting up, and it was too much it was too much it was too much Merlin couldn't take it anymore itwastoomuchitwastoomuchitwas_ too much!_

His resolve broke, he couldn't take it anymore, not like this, not again.

He let out a pitiful cry, a wail of anguish, sobbing as he begged and pleaded with her, anything to make it _stop_.

"No, no Mum - it wasn't my fault! Mum! _It wasn't my fault!_"


	3. Chapter 3

_(6 months earlier)_

"Merlin, would you just double check those cabinets are locked?"

He rolled his eyes behind Hunith's back before going over to fiddle with the locks on the case of gold wedding bands. Ever since Hunith had taken over his late Great-Uncle Gaius' jewellery shop, Hunith had been obsessive about security – even more than the old man had ever been. Merlin helped out in the evenings, after his uni classes ended, and he was always there for the lock-up.

Of course, all of Hunith's worrying was utterly pointless. The Emrys' Jewellers was the most secure jewellery shop in all of Camelot, since Merlin added several layers of protective charms to their non-magical security measures.

Hunith was finally satisfied with how well everything was padlocked and gave Merlin the go-ahead to cast his charms. As Merlin turned his back to the windows Hunith commented that Arthur was making his way towards the shop. Merlin nodded, showing he'd heard her and returned his focus onto his magic.

Arthur came into the shop, waving his hello to Hunith so he wouldn't disturb Merlin. He leant against the wall, a half-smile on his face as he watched his boyfriend work. Hunith was so glad Merlin had finally told him about his magic – and even more glad that Arthur had taken it in his stride. It was the one secret about Merlin he'd never told to Gwen, Lance, Morgana or Leon.

Merlin finished up, and turned to face Arthur as the golden glow was leaving his eyes. He learned forward, kissed him as a hello and they smiled at each other as their fingers entwined.

"I'll see you later Mum, Arthur's taking me out to dinner."

"Okay love, have a good time." Hunith waved them away distractedly as she tried to fit the key in the control for the metal shutter at the front of the store.

As the two men walked out the door hand in hand, one dark, one fair, Hunith smiled at them fondly. She knew she didn't have to worry about Merlin when he was with Arthur – Arthur would take care of him. No, her allowance of worry was all spent on the security of her uncle's shop. She would go home, stick a ready meal in the oven, pour herself a glass of red wine and lounge in front of the telly all night.

_(2 Weeks Later) _

Merlin twisted the key and pulled it out of the lock just as Hunith was coming out of the storeroom.

"All done Mum, just the charms left," he called out.

The bell rang as the door opened and closed. Merlin frowned. Arthur wasn't supposed to be coming tonight.

He had just started saying, "Sorry, we're closed," when a voice interrupted him.

"Turn around. Hands in the air."

The voice was gruff and menacing, making Merlin's blood run cold. He turned slowly, dread in his veins.

Hunith was facing him, tears beginning to leak down her face, eyes wide. Terrified. With a gun to her head.

The man behind her was dressed in black, balaclava pulled down over his face, hand wound tightly in her hair, pulling her head to one side with the barrel of his gun pressed to her temple.

Merlin froze, hands above his head. His legs forgot how to move. This was all a nightmare right? It wasn't actually happening. Surely? He tried to stay calm as he felt the cold barrel of a gun press against his own temple, in a sickening mirror image of his mother. He knew the terror showed in his eyes. No. he had to be calm. That was the only way he'd be able to get Hunith out of this safely.

He could hear the gunman's voice buzzing in his ear, but he ignored it. He needed to focus on an escape.

Deliberately dropping his gaze to his feet, and flicking it back up to his mother's eyes, he prayed she'd understand. He tapped his foot.

Once.

Pause.

Twice.

Pause.

Three times.

Pause.

Hunith and Merlin launched themselves at each other simultaneously, ducking their heads away from the guns, kicking backwards into the thieves shins. If only they could reach each other, Merlin could use his magic to protect them both.

But it was no use. The gunmen lunged for the others' hostage. Merlin's ankle disappeared under a steel toe-capped boot with a sickening _crunch_ as he saw his mother receive punch after punch. Stomach. Head. Kidney. Head again.

"You little bitch," the voice growled, "let's see how you like this."

A gun was aimed.

_(oh god no please no not Mum anything but Mum no please think Merlin think shield yes just put up a shield now Merlin do it now!)_

Fired.

_(No. _

_No. _

_NO!)_

Hunith cried out and clutched at her stomach. She stumbled, knees buckling, as her captor brutally shoved her to the ground.

Merlin yelled out and struggled to reach her, but the masked man was too strong for him. Blinded by panic, any thoughts of his magic were forced out of his head as he screamed and cried out for his mother. He lunged forward as the arms restraining him suddenly disappeared, but he barely made it one step before a sharp pain exploded in his head and the world went black.

Merlin sat up, pain shooting through his head, his ankle, his arm as he blinked. His vision was blurred, but it gradually cleared, just like the fog that had clouded his mind. The realisation of what had happened hit him like a physical blow. His eyes burned as hot tears gathered there and he searched frantically for his mother.

He found her, pale and weak, lying on the ground next to a broken cabinet. All of the jewellery was gone, the glass smashed on the floor, but none of that mattered. He reached out towards her, and found his hand covered in blood. His mother's blood, on the floor.

She turned her head towards him as he crawled up beside her. She tried to speak, but her mouth was too dry, so she smiled instead. It was horrific. She was covered in blood, bleeding out on the shop floor, and still she smiled at her son. She removed her hand from where it had been pressing over her wound, in a futile effort to stop the bleeding, and stretched out to caress Merlin's face. It was sticky, and it shook, but Merlin didn't care. The tears streamed down his face as he pressed his mother's hand to his cheek.

And then it was over.

The light left her eyes.

Merlin collapsed onto her chest, his cries coming out in great wails of grief, as the pain of it all crashed over him, a tidal wave, drowning him again and again and again.

Arthur found him holding onto Hunith hours later, still crying.


	4. Chapter 4

_(Five months and one week ago)_

The rain pitter-pattered off the black umbrella as they stood outside in the November cold.

Arthur slipped his arm around Merlin's shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze. Merlin smiled weakly up at him, the bruises and bags under his eyes marring his face. His right arm was in a sling and he was still using a wheelchair to get around most of the time, but his ankle could support him well enough to stand here.

Merlin stood, silent and proud, head bowed in grief, at his mother's graveside.

The words of the priest floated over their heads; neither of them was truly listening. It was a small affair really, just a few family friends had gathered to say goodbye. It was quiet, as Merlin hadn't wanted anything big. It wasn't Hunith's style.

It was over. Merlin leant on Arthur as he limped back across the cemetery towards the waiting car. They began the long drive home.

Merlin had moved in with Arthur after 'it', as they had taken to calling the armed robbery. Arthur had wanted Merlin to move in for a long time, but he wished it hadn't happened just so he could look after his grieving boyfriend. The flat was even quieter than it had been when Arthur had lived on his own, with neither of the men knowing what to say to each other in the aftermath of what had happened.

Merlin's physical injuries were slowly healing up, the cuts closing over and the bruises fading, and even though his arm and ankle would take a while yet to get better, he seemed to be finding his feet. Arthur knew they weren't out the woods though.

Merlin had never known his birth father, with his Great-Uncle Gaius being the closest thing to a father in his life. When he died four years ago, Merlin's already close relationship with Hunith had just grown stronger. It had always been just the two of them, sticking together through thick and thin. Now she was gone, Merlin felt utterly lost. Sure, he had Arthur to cling to as he drowned in a sea of grief, but it wasn't the same. His boyfriend of two years couldn't ever hope to replace his mother.

Arthur looked on as he saw Merlin lose himself in the black cloud of grief. He tried to understand, but truly he felt hopeless. He couldn't offer Merlin advice or comfort. He'd never known his mother, since she'd died giving birth to him, and he'd never been terribly close to his father. He just worked under Uther's shadow at Pendragon Ltd. After he'd come out to him, their bond had changed from father-son to solely boss-employee. Arthur had lost both of his parents, but he knew it wasn't at all similar to Merlin's experience. He just hoped that what he was doing was enough.

It was about a week after Merlin had moved in, and Arthur was in the kitchen, pouring milk on his morning cereal when Merlin stumbled in, half awake, rubbing his eyes. His arm was still in a sling, and he struggled one-handed to make himself a cup of coffee. It was the third day that week he'd been barely conscious when the loss of Arthur's presence in the bed had woken him from his fitful sleep.

Merlin daren't tell Arthur about what he saw at night. The scenes from 'it' chased each other round his head, his mother's glassy eyes staring, unseeing, at him, the agony of his ankle snapping, the blind panic freezing his magic. He tried not to let it bother him, he knew his dreams couldn't hurt him. They were just dreams, after all. But they tormented him in the black of night, leaving him wide awake, heaving in deep, terrified breaths with Arthur sleeping peacefully next to him. He couldn't decide if Arthur's talent for deep sleeping was a curse or a blessing. He would lie awake for hours next to his boyfriend, all alone, until finally exhaustion would set in and he would get a blessed hour or so of rest. And then Arthur would get up for work and Merlin would feel him leave and the bed grow cold and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't sleep again.

Arthur wasn't completely clueless about Merlin's not sleeping. He heard him occasionally, or felt him shaking from fear. Yet he knew Merlin was proud, and hated people to see him upset, or weak, or even slightly ill. He thought Merlin would prefer to be alone.

But it was going too far. A few nights, okay, Arthur could grant him that. But not this long. He didn't think Merlin had slept properly since 'it', and it was going to make him ill.

"Morning," Merlin mumbled at Arthur as he sat down, his good hand wrapped around the coffee mug.

Arthur paused in eating his cereal resting the spoon in his bowl noisily.

"Look, er, Merlin. I didn't want to say anything but you can't go on like this. You're barely making it through the day. I know you're not sleeping. Maybe - maybe we should look into getting you some sleeping pills. Coffee won't sustain you forever."

Merlin eyed Arthur warily. He wasn't ready to admit to _himself _never mind anyone else, that anything was wrong. He didn't need any help. He'd be fine once the nightmares went away. And they would, in time. Merlin was sure of it.

"Arthur, I'm fine. I don't need any medication. It's just taking a little while to get used to sleeping here. No need to worry."

He offered Arthur a small smile, more than he'd given him in weeks. And that was how Arthur knew he was lying.


	5. Chapter 5

_(Present day) _

It was days like this which Arthur lived for. The days when he didn't have any lunchtime meetings and could go spend two or three uninterrupted hours with Merlin.

Signing in, he made his way through the hospital until he reached Merlin's room. He popped in to say a quick hello and was pleasantly surprised when he got a smile in return. Arthur had to go meet with Merlin's doctor, but they'd have plenty of time together once that was done with.

The doctor was friendly enough, an older woman with a compassionate face, called Alice. Arthur knew Merlin was lucky to have her.

Alice herself actually had magic, and she'd found the best way for her to use it was helping those whom conventional medicine couldn't help. A little bit of judicious magic here and there did her patients a world of good. She'd recognised Merlin had magic immediately, and ever since, she had been Merlin's only doctor.

Arthur had freaked out the first time Alice had brought up magic in one of their meetings. He had completely panicked, convinced he'd done the wrong thing taking Merlin there, that he would become some sort of lab rat. But Alice had explained everything, and now she was one of the few people he would trust completely with Merlin's health. It was one of the only things which convinced him it was worth it for Merlin to stay there.

Merlin hadn't used magic since 'it'. He'd hidden it away inside of him, where it lay buried and forgotten in a cobweb of grief and guilt.

"Arthur, good to see you again." Alice gestured for him to sit in one of the chairs opposite the desk in her office. "He's really come on this week. He hasn't shown any violent tendencies this week, never mind any actual violence. I think the medication is finally kicking in to deal with the paranoia."

"Is he sleeping any better? What about his hallucinations?" Arthur asked.

"Well, I've tried using amethyst crystals in his room to help calm him, but they haven't been working. Magic doesn't seem to be having much of an effect either. His hallucinations haven't gotten any better I'm afraid. He's still not sleeping because of them, and we can't give him a stronger dose of sedatives." She paused, glancing down at her notes before discarding them. "Arthur, I'm going to be honest here. I don't think I can help Merlin any more than I already have unless he helps himself. He's cut himself off from his magic, he isn't receptive to anything I can do to try and shield him from his own mind. It won't work without a little co-operation."

"Co-operation? In what sense?"

"He hasn't really used his magic since his mother's death, correct?" Arthur nodded, since he couldn't remember Merlin having used it in a long while, and Alice continued. "Well, the way I see it, his magic is a fundamental part of him. He needs it to function properly. But if he's too scared to use it, it's just going to eat him up inside. I think that if he's willing to use it again, he might be able to fend off his hallucinations so he can begin his recovery properly."

"So...you're saying that Merlin needs to use his magic again if he's ever going to be able to get better? But he's convinced he can't use it, that he's lost it or something. He doesn't say so, but I can see it in his eyes, that he blames himself for not using it to save his mother."

"I know Arthur, I know it'll be hard for him to use it again, especially after so long. Maybe if you talked to him about it, he might open up a little bit. It's the best I can come up with, I'm sorry."

Arthur nodded once, biting his lip. It wouldn't be an easy conversation, that much was true, but he'd gone through hell for Merlin and he was still there. It didn't even cross his mind to refuse, to demand an alternative. Whatever Merlin needed, Arthur would give it to him.

Merlin and Arthur were sitting at a table in the cafeteria. Neither of them had hugely enjoyed their meal, but then again, the hospital food really wasn't that great. Two mugs of steaming tea were in front of them, and they were just chatting about this'n'that, when Arthur decided he had better bring it up. Merlin's magic. Today was as good as any other day. At least Merlin was feeling chatty and reasonably happy today.

"How did you sleep last night?" Arthur figured it would be best to start small. They had agreed that honesty was the best policy, after everything that had happened in the past few months.

"I didn't. Not really. It was pretty bad last night." Merlin admitted grudgingly.

"I can't help but wonder if your magic would help-"

"No Arthur. You know I don't have it anymore. Not since - not since Mum died."

"But you do! I'm sure of it Merlin. You don't just lose something like that."

"You can, and I did. It's like, like I can't feel it there anymore. It used to be there, all the time, but not anymore."

"Merlin, maybe if you tried it, just something little to start with. I'm sure it's still there, you just have to push."

"Arthur, I'm telling you it's not there! I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Arthur resigned himself to defeat. He didn't want to argue with Merlin, not when he saw so little of him. He dropped it. Merlin could be stubborn as a mule, and Arthur clearly wasn't going to get anywhere with him today.

Merlin sat on his bed and stared at his hands. He used to be able to do so much with them, building and destroying with a mere thought. But now he looked as them and saw none of the power they used to hold. How could they still have that same magic when he'd let something so terrible happen? It was his own fault Hunith had died, he knew it, somewhere deep inside. His head told him he wasn't guilty, that nothing could have saved her, yet his heart told him differently. His heart told him he was suffering the consequences he deserved, because he hadn't even been able to protect his own mother. What was the use of trying when he already knew what would happen? He would get his hopes up, praying for something just wasn't going to work, and be crushed by the disappointment when it didn't come into fruition. He sighed. Arthur had wanted him to try, so he would do it for him, even though he expected nothing.

He stretched his arm out, hand open. He would just try something small, something that had been instinctive to him from birth. He would try to call fire to him.

Scrunching up his eyes he whispered the word, hoping with all his strength something would happen, that he would prove himself wrong, that he hadn't lost that which truly made him whole.

He opened his eyes, heart in his throat.

Just as he had expected.

Nothing.


	6. Chapter 6

_(5 months ago) _

Merlin gulped at his coffee greedily. Once upon a time, he hadn't drunk coffee, and now it seemed like the only thing keeping him alive. Coffee, energy drinks, and high sugar meals. Arthur glanced at him, almost sadly, before putting the bottle of sleeping pills in front of him. There were only a few left.

"You did take them last night, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but they didn't work. Again. Maybe I need a stronger dose." He frowned at the brown bottle doubtfully.

"I tried them one night - you do not need a stronger dose! You're already taking enough to knock out a horse."

Merlin laughed at this, and Arthur smiled at him. It wasn't so bad, this not-sleeping thing, especially now he'd dropped out of uni. He'd been studying history, but with missing work from being in hospital from 'it' and the funeral, and then always being too tired from a lack of sleep, it had been too much. There really wasn't much point in carrying on with a degree he wouldn't be able to do well in. It was actually Arthur who had suggested he drop out, focus on himself a bit more. He could always reapply next year, when he wasn't constantly on the brink of a sleep which would never come.

It worked much better for Merlin, being able to nap when he could, and not have to worry about missing lectures or writing essays. Not that he actually got any sleep when Arthur was at work anyway. The couple hours he managed to snatch every couple of nights kept him going. He was kind of used to surviving on so little sleep now, although that didn't make the nightmares any less terrible, or the tiredness any less exhausting. At least he knew that there was at least the chance of sleep if Arthur was next to him. That was the only way he ever managed to escape the dreams and thoughts which plagued him.

That night, Arthur and Merlin went out to the pub. It was time for their weekly meet up with Morgana, Leon, Lance and Gwen. Despite everything that was happening to Merlin, he still made the effort to show his face at their weekly gathering. Now that he wasn't at uni, he didn't see any of them nearly as often as he used to, and it was nice to have the opportunity to socialise. As they started chatting, huddled around the table they always claimed as their own in the corner, Arthur offered to go buy the next round. Taking note of the requests for beer, and wine, and Merlin's lemonade, he nodded and crossed the pub to the bar.

Merlin's eyes followed him as he walked over to Gwaine, the barkeeper, briefly tuning out of the conversation going on around him.

Just then, something caught his eyes. A flicker of movement at the end of the bar, drawing his attention away from his boyfriend.

He froze in his seat, going cold all over. _No. _It couldn't be. Merlin blinked, tried to wash the image away behind closed lids, but when he looked again, she was still there.

Hunith.

She stared at him, unblinking. Her arms were stained with blood, running down her hands and dripping off her fingers. Her dress marred by the blood oozing out of her stomach wound. She took one faltering step towards him, grief and anger in her eyes.

Merlin freaked.

Scrambling off his stool, he mumbled a quick, "be back in a minute," to the questioning glances, and dashed towards the bathroom, away from the bar. Away from Hunith.

The tears began to flow over his cheeks as he held onto a sink for dear life. His legs trembled under him, knees threatening to give out at any second. His whole body shook - in terror or in panic, he didn't know. His mind raced around in endless circles, over and over, just repeating the same words. He didn't even realise he was saying them aloud until he saw his lips moving in the mirror above the sink.

_(No, no, no, it couldn't have been her, you didn't see her, she's dead, she's dead, she wasn't real, she wasn't there, she'd dead, there was nothing there, it wasn't her, it wasn't her) _

Arthur put all the drinks down on the table, and glanced at Merlin's empty stool.

'"Where'd he go?" He asked.

The others looked at him, almost guiltily. They'd been debating whether to go after him or not. Lance muttered that Merlin had gone to the bathroom, that he'd seemed upset, that they didn't know what was wrong with him. Arthur didn't even hear him finish as he turned tail and jogged to the bathroom, his protective instincts kicking in automatically.

_(It wasn't her, there was nothing there, you must have been seeing things, there was nothing there, she's dead, she's dead-) _

Arthur pushed the door open and found Merlin crying his eyes out, whispering under his breath, unintelligible words. His wild blue eyes stared up at him, red with tears, his skin paled by fear.

He swept him up in a hug, holding him close, holding him tight. He wouldn't let Merlin fall. He would never let him fall. Merlin curled up into his shoulder, his tears soaking through Arthur's shirt. He folded his arms around his shaking boyfriend, stroking his hair gently as he whispered comforting, calming words into his ear.

"No, no, it wasn't her, seeing things, not her, couldn't be, she's dead, seeing things, not real, not there, she's dead, nothing there."

Merlin's litany went on.

Arthur understood with startling clarity what Merlin was saying. That he'd _seen_ Hunith, somewhere in the pub. But Merlin was right, Hunith was dead - they'd buried her over a month ago.

"Shhhhh, it's okay Merlin, I'm here. You're safe, it's okay, there's nothing to be scared of." Arthur began a litany of his own, trying drown out the horrors of Merlin's.

With time, Merlin's shaking subsided, and his crying stopped. He stepped away from Arthur, wiping his eyes with his hand and sniffing loudly. He splashed water on his face, ignoring the questions coming from Arthur. He couldn't deal with those just yet.

When he turned to look at Arthur, the concern etched upon his face was so heart-breaking that Merlin wished he _could_ explain what had just happened, but he didn't even understand it fully himself.

"Arthur, Arthur I - I can't." He shook his head. "Not right now. Later."

Arthur nodded, realising that this was how Merlin reacted when something happened - he retreated within himself, he denied anything had happened at all until he could rationalise it. He would get an explanation, answers to his questions, but not yet. He would have to be patient. Taking hold of Merlin's hand, he waited for a nod in reply before they headed back out to the pub.

Merlin plastered a smile on his face and tried to enjoy himself. He couldn't let a little thing like that (whatever _that_ was) ruin his night.

Arthur told the others that Merlin had felt ill. Merlin smiled and joked through the night. If his laughter was a little weak, his grins forced, his eyes a little too pink - well, he'd been 'ill', hadn't he?


	7. Chapter 7

_(4 months ago)_

Merlin still hadn't told Arthur what had happened that night at the pub, but it was obviously upsetting him somehow. His sleeping had gotten even worse, if that was even possible. He regularly woke to find the bed empty, and Merlin pacing the flat, muttering to himself, fists clenched tight enough to leave indentations on his palm from his nails. Arthur wanted to ask him, to push him to open up, but he knew it would be counter-productive. Merlin would be as stubborn as hell, and Arthur knew he'd lose any fight about it until Merlin was ready to tell him. So he waited. And he worried.

Merlin had noticed the glances Arthur threw him, the ones which made sure he was okay, that he was still _there, _as if Arthur was scared he would just disappear altogether. But he ignored them, scared of what would happen if he told Arthur what had happened that night at the pub. If he told him he'd seen his dead mother standing at the bar.

And what would happen if he said he'd seen her again? And again after that? And that he now heard her voice calling after him.

No. He couldn't do it. That would be like admitting he was crazy. And he wasn't crazy. _He wasn't._

Merlin stared down at his cornflakes, spoon limp in his hand. Today was going to be a bad day, he could tell. He'd already seen glimpses of Hunith twice. Once in the bathroom and once in the hallway. He did his best to ignore her, but he knew that today would be one of the days she just wouldn't leave him alone.

Arthur walked in, tightening his tie before opening the fridge and searching out a couple eggs. He cracked them into a dish and whisked them briefly before adding milk and putting them in the microwave. He didn't have time to make 'proper' scrambled eggs, what with having a 9 'o'clock meeting that morning, so he resorted to the cheats' method. He started chatting away to Merlin as the microwave hummed.

"So I should be back by six at the latest today. Uther'll probably make me stay behind for a while and go over some reports, but I should still make it in time for us to go to the cinema tonight, if you want?"

"Huh?" Merlin hadn't been paying attention. "Oh, yeah. We could go see that new film, y'know, the Avengers?"

"Which one's that? The one about the superheroes right? There's been so many superhero films recently, I can't believe you're not bored of them yet!"

"Mmmm, but superheroes are great..."

"Then again, The Hulk is pretty cool. And Captain America. And no-one can deny the god that is Robert Downey Jr."

"Yeah..."

"Weren't there rumours they were going to make a sequel?"

At this point, Arthur realised Merlin wasn't actually looking at him, but rather at a spot just behind him. And his mind was most definitely focussed on discussing the rumours surrounding Marvel films.

"Merlin? Are you even listening to me?"

The truth was, Merlin hadn't been listening to most of the conversation. He'd been rather distracted by someone else's voice. His mother's.

Hunith had appeared behind Arthur just after the conversation had begun, and Merlin thought he'd done quite well keeping everything under control, not letting her distract him. But then she'd started to walk haltingly towards him. She'd started calling out his name, her voice roughened by decay. And now she was walking right up to him, close enough for him to smell the soil and blood on her clothes.

It was too much. He couldn't keep up the facade any longer. He stumbled out of his chair, tripping up over his own feet as he tried to get out her reach. He started up his litany again, but it wasn't helping.

Arthur stared at Merlin, who was completely ignoring him, his eyes wide and focussed on the air right in front of him, staring at it in horror. As he watched, the fear for his boyfriend catching in his throat, Merlin flung out his hand with some ancient words. His desperation shone past the golden glow of his magic, his hand shook in fear and frustration as the spell just didn't _work. _

Merlin stepped backwards, terror filling his mind, blood rushing in his head as Hunith continued her advance towards him despite the spells he was flinging at her. He caught his foot on one of Arthur's work shoes, sending him backwards.

Arthur lunged towards him, grabbing hold of Merlin's outstretched hand, hauling him upwards towards him, halting his fall.

Merlin blinked rapidly, like he was just seeing Arthur for the first time, as Hunith disappeared behind Arthur. The panic began to fade out of his eyes, until the realisation of what had just happened caused it all to flood back in.

"Merlin? What's going on?"

Arthur hung up the phone. He'd called in sick to work so he could give Merlin all the time he needed. Merlin was curled up on the couch in a blanket, with a mug of tea clutched in his hands.

Arthur joined him, sitting on the other end, giving him space.

"So. What happened, Merlin?"

Merlin swallowed, staring down into his tea. He was too scared to look at Arthur while he said this, too afraid of what his reaction would be. But he couldn't lie any longer.

"I. Um. I – " He heaved a deep breath. "I saw Hunith."

"Your mum? How do you mean?"

"I - I saw her at the pub that night, standing by the bar. And I've seen her more than that. I've seen her here. In the bathroom. In the street. In the library. On the bus."

"Merlin, I don't understand. What do you mean, 'you've seen her'?" There was no sneering in Arthur's voice, just a calm curiosity.

"I mean I see her standing there. And she says my name. And she walks towards me. And she's - she's covered in blood. Like that night, that night at the jewellery shop." Merlin's resolve had broken, and the tears had begun to flow, out of his control. "And I see her at night. When I try to sleep, she's there, always there. In the shadows, in the corners, in my head."

Arthur was about to interrupt, to ask another question, but Merlin just kept on talking, the words spilling out of his mouth.

"And I know she's not real. She can't be. She's dead, I know that. But she's still _there. _She won't leave me alone. She won't let me sleep, and now she won't leave me alone during the day too."

Arthur gave up trying to think of something to say and pulled Merlin onto his lap, holding him in a tight hug instead. He didn't know what any of this meant, that Merlin was hallucinating. But he knew he couldn't do anything other than offer support.

"Merlin, Merlin, Merlin," he soothed, "It's okay."

"I'm not crazy Arthur. I'm _not._"

"I know you're not Merlin. I know. But we need to get you some help."

"I don't need any help. I'm fine." Merlin tensed in Arthur's arms. Asking for help would be like admitting he was insane. And he wasn't. So he didn't need help.

"Merlin, don't be so stubborn. You need help, help which I can't give you."

"And I'm saying no. I've coped this far Arthur. I don't need help."


	8. Chapter 8

_(Present day) _

"Hey, Lance, yeah it's me. Look, I said I'd go see Merlin today but Uther's making me go to a meeting this evening and I'm not gonna be able to get to the hospital before visiting hours are over...yeah, could you just tell the nurses to tell him why I can't go?...oh thanks mate...no, you don't have to do that, I mean sure, it would be nice but...oh, okay. Thanks Lance, it means a lot...yeah, I'll see you Friday. Bye."

Arthur hung up the phone and stared at the email on his computer screen in frustration. Every now and then, Uther pulled a dick move like this, despite knowing how Arthur visited Merlin every day. Uther knew, but he didn't care. He didn't care much about any of his employees, thought Arthur wryly. But he had no choice but to comply with Uther's demands, even if it meant abandoning Merlin for a night.

So he'd called Lance. He'd only really wanted him to pass the message along, since he wouldn't have the time to call the hospital himself. Lance being Lance, however, he had offered to go visit Merlin instead of Arthur, so he wouldn't be alone. It was typical Lance, to offer something like that.

Lance and Gwen gave their names at reception and collected their visitor passes. One of the nurses brought a couple of chairs into Merlin's room, so they could all sit and have a chat.

Merlin was confused at first, but once Lance explained why they were there instead of Arthur, the panic which had begun to set in faded away. Gwen smiled warmly at him, welcoming and kind, as the two sat down opposite Merlin.

"So how have you been, Merlin? We've not seen you in a while." Gwen asked.

"I'm okay, I'm sleeping a little better now, I think." Merlin always found talking about the whole thing a bit weird, especially with Gwen. Then again, that was his own fault really.

"That's good, Arthur said the new medication was working more than the last one with the paranoia."

"Yeah, yeah, maybe that's why I'm sleeping better." Merlin wasn't actually sure if he _was _sleeping any better, and yet he couldn't help putting on a front with Gwen and Lance. He didn't want them to see how guilty he felt.

Lance picked up on it anyway.

He brought it up later on in the conversation.

"You do know that we don't blame you for what happened, don't you?"

Merlin nodded, biting his lip.

"Look," Lance continued, "none of us knew how much you were going through. It could have been a lot worse Merlin, but it wasn't. So stop blaming yourself for it."

"I still did it. I can't change that."

"No, you can't," Gwen interjected, "but to be honest it doesn't matter. It's in the past, we know why it happened and we're trying to fix it so it won't happen again. Truly Merlin, I never blamed you. I was just confused, and now I'm not. It's as simple as that, so forget about it."

She smiled at him, hoping to send him some comfort. Before she'd known he was gay, and before she'd met Lance, Gwen had taken quite a shine to Merlin, and still counted him as one of her closest friends. She hated seeing himself tear himself apart for something no-one saw as an issue anyway.

Later on, when Gwen and Lance had left, and Merlin had taken his medication, he sat on his bed, legs crossed, and thought about what they'd said. He knew, logically, that they'd told him before, but that he hadn't been in any sort of state to take it in, to understand what they were saying to him.

However, now that the paranoia was under control, now that he understood what was happening to him, he could think about what they had actually said to him.

He realised now that their words were genuine, that they really didn't blame him for any of it.

And as he sat there wondering at the words of the friends, and the knowledge dawned on him, he felt something loosen in his chest, and a weight fall off his burdened shoulders.


	9. Chapter 9

_(Three months ago)_

They had been getting along reasonably okay. Merlin didn't miss the looks Arthur gave him, or how his jaw tensed every time Merlin stopped dead in the middle of what he was saying because Hunith had appeared.

He was seeing her more and more often now. He saw her when he was making breakfast, when he was doing a crossword puzzle, when he was waiting at the bus stop, when he was lying awake in bed at night. Arthur was getting used to the blankness in Merlin's expression every now and then, now that he knew what was causing it. Admittedly, he wasn't happy about the fact Merlin refused to get help for his hallucinations, but Merlin was just so damn stubborn it wasn't worth the effort to fight him.

Arthur woke up, blinking slowly in the darkness of the bedroom. Merlin was asleep on his stomach, one arm curled around Arthur's torso, hugging him close. Arthur smiled fondly at his sleeping boyfriend. It was good to see he was actually getting _some_ sleep among all of the madness he was dealing with.

He swallowed. Ugh. He had such a dry mouth, it almost hurt to swallow. Grimacing, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, easing out from underneath Merlin's arm, so he could go get a glass of water from the kitchen. Padding down the hallway, he stepped lightly so he wouldn't wake Merlin – he didn't want to disturb the little sleep he got.

Back in the bedroom, Merlin started awake, staring at the empty bed as if it was on fire. Panic rose up within him. Where had Arthur gone? Where was he? Had he abandoned him? The fears and anxiety that had been plaguing his mind took over, clearly something terrible had happened to Arthur, and he was never coming back. Maybe he'd – oh God, maybe he'd _died_.

Merlin scrambled backwards in the bed, wanting to call out for Arthur, to see if he was near, if he was okay, but then the words were trapped in his throat as he stared across the room. At Hunith. As she stepped towards him, jerkily on her stiff joints, lurching forwards, falling towards him.

"Merlin."

_No. _

"Merlin…your fault…it was all your fault"

_No, no, no, not again, not now, please no. _

The panic flooded over him, leaving him blind to reason, blind to logic, as he fell off the bed and pushed himself up against the wall, anything to get away from Hunith, who was now crawling over the bed, reaching out for him with her bloody hands. Her papery thin hair wafted towards him like cobwebs, searching him out.

He stared and stared and stared and his fear brimmed over into tears and he began to heave in great whopping breaths as she came closer and closer, and she just wouldn't _go_. And he couldn't move any further back, the knobs of his spine pressed firmly against the wall even as he pushed at them in a fruitless attempt to somehow escape _through _the wall. Anything to get away from her. It was just too much for him, he couldn't stay there any longer, he just wanted _out_, goddammit, he just wanted to be left alone!

Arthur gulped down the cool water from the kitchen and set his glass on the counter, before walking back to the bedroom.

Merlin pressed his hands to his eyes, shaking his head, muttering to himself "itsnot realitsnotrealitsnotreal" over and over, a mantra which was doing nothing to help him. His whole body was trembling from fear, and there was such a pain in his chest. He couldn't breathe, choking on his own sobs, trying to breathe and it getting stuck in his throat as Hunith moved ever closer. It wasn't working, he was choking, he was suffocating. He was dying, he was sure of it, he would die here, alone, with Arthur lying dead on a street somewhere and him scared to death by the sight of his dead mother and no-one would ever know and he'd never get to say goodbye to the man he loved and she was still coming closer and _bloody hell _the pain in his chest was like a fire, lighting up his lungs, blocking them, starving them of oxygen.

Arthur opened the door and his heart leapt into his mouth as he saw Merlin crying in the corner, curled up into a shaking ball.

Merlin clung to Arthur as Hunith disappeared and the panic subsided, the tears drying on his face.

They were coping, Merlin thought to himself, truly they were. It wasn't as if they were falling apart at the seams. He saw his dead mother, and Arthur knew, and that was that. There was nothing to worry about. Merlin spent his days watching box sets of Doctor Who, and Supernatural and Glee, with the occasional book or film thrown in for variety. Crossing a film off his never-ending 'films to watch' list gave him that feeling of accomplishment he used to get at uni. Well, it was better than doing nothing. Arthur spent his days at his desk at his father's company, staring at the computer screen, and distractedly writing reports whilst worrying about Merlin.

Merlin was changing, Arthur could tell. He was getting worse even though he tried to pretend he wasn't. After the panic attack, Arthur had promised to wake Merlin if he ever needed to get out of bed in the night, so Merlin wouldn't freak out if he found the bed empty. It wasn't ideal, but it worked. At least Arthur didn't want to get up in the night very often. It wasn't just that extra need for security which had changed. Merlin had changed in other ways too. His eyes would flick nervously around him as they talked, or he would startle at any loud noise coming from behind him. Most quieter ones too. He was distracted and jumpy. Arthur knew it was because he was seeing Hunith, but at the same time there was some small part of him which tensed in anger and irritation every time it happened. He hated that small part of himself, knowing he needed to be supportive of Merlin, knowing that he shouldn't do anything which could make the situation worse than it already was. Their relationship was being held together by fraying threads, and try as he might, Arthur just wasn't sure if he could stitch them back together.

But he could damn well try.


	10. Chapter 10

_(Present day)_

Arthur stared at Merlin from the doorway. He was curled up on the bed, crying his eyes out.

He hadn't been like this for a long time.

But Merlin was there, and he was crying, and he was shouting at Arthur, who hadn't even had the chance to step into the room.

It was one of _those_ days. The days Arthur hated.

"Go away! Leave me alone!" Merlin's cries hung in the air. "I said go away!"

Merlin should have learnt by now that Arthur was just as stubborn as he was, and he wasn't going anywhere. He stepped into Merlin's room, pulled up a chair and settled down to wait it out.

Merlin's shouts continued, on and on they went, until his throat was starting to get hoarse and his eyes were sore from tears. He glared at Arthur across the small room, resentment in his eyes, but Arthur knew it wasn't really directed at him. It was directed inside himself, to the part of Merlin which knew how badly this was hurting Arthur. It was the part of Merlin which had taken over in his current mood and was lashing out, because it reasoned that hurting Arthur now was better than prolonging the torture that their relationship surely was.

"Just leave me! Please..." Merlin trailed off, his shouts having faded to begging. "I know you can't stand to look at me."

This was what hurt the most. Out of everything that had happened between them, this was what hurt Arthur the most. Merlin was so convinced that he wasn't good enough for Arthur that he couldn't see how much he truly loved him. Merlin was so in love with Arthur, he was desperate not to hurt him, but his desperation was clouded by the fears and feelings of worthlessness which clung to his mind and refused to let go. If only he could see that trying to send Arthur away hurt him more than staying did. Although, on days like these, it was hard to tell which was worse.

Arthur just sat quietly on the chair, waiting for the storm to pass, like it always did. It just took a little patience, and Arthur never ran out of patience where Merlin was concerned.

Merlin was repeating a litany of reasons for Arthur to go, garbled explanations which he'd heard a thousand times before.

"I'm not any good for you, you deserve better, you don't need to stay here for me, I don't need your pity, I give you permission to leave, don't feel bad about leaving the crazy guy, just go, because I'm not good enough for you, you deserve better…" On and on it went, until the words lost all their meaning.

When Merlin's words were just meaningless whispers, Arthur rose from his chair, slowly so he wouldn't startle him, and crossed the room to kneel by the edge of Merlin's bed. He folded his boyfriend's shaking hands up in his own steady ones, and rested his head against his thigh.

"It's okay Merlin. It's okay. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." He soothed.

But Merlin wouldn't listen to him. He couldn't listen to him properly, not from where he was locked inside his head, wrapped in the mistaken beliefs of his delusions. He heard the words but didn't register their meaning. They were simply sounds, nothing more. How could they be more? He knew deep down that Arthur didn't love him. He knew that Arthur only stuck around out of pity, because he wouldn't dare be seen leaving the man who had mental health problems. He knew that Arthur resented him for trapping him in a dead-end relationship. He knew it and he hated him for it. How dare he come over to 'comfort' him, when all along he was just hiding his despise? Who did he think he was to mock Merlin like that? No, Merlin wouldn't have it. He may have been crazy, but he wasn't about to be taken for a fool.

He struggled to free his hands from Arthur's grip, pulling backwards and pushing Arthur away from him. He didn't want that liar anywhere near him. No, it was high time that pretender Arthur got the message and left. And if Arthur didn't understand, well, Merlin would just have to make him. He stood and shoved Arthur back again, back towards the door, and he stumbled backwards as he tried to right himself. Merlin felt his nails digging into his palms as his hands curled into tight fists and his arms tensed. He began to draw his arm back, ready to punch Arthur so he'd understand just how much Merlin didn't want him there, how much he wasn't needed.

Arthur saw the intent in Merlin's eyes as he stared up at his boyfriend. It broke his fucking heart to see the hatred and betrayal in his eyes, but he knew why it was there. He knew Merlin hated him for leaving him here in this hospital, day after day, and he loved him even so. So when Merlin pulled his arm back to throw a punch at him, he ducked under his arm and pulled him into a tight hug. He squeezed him tight and refused to let go until Merlin stopped pummelling on his back. Until Merlin broke down into fresh tears as he realised that he'd nearly punched the man he loved so, _so_ much.

In between the sobs and his shaking body Merlin choked out three words.

"Just leave, please."

And Arthur left, because he knew that Merlin hated people seeing him cry, but not before he replied "I'll be back tomorrow."

With Arthur gone, all of the strength left Merlin's body and he sat back down on the bed, head in his hands. How was he lucky enough to have Arthur, a man who refused to leave him despite everything?

Arthur unlocked his car and sat for a minute before starting the engine, head in his hands. The storm would pass, he knew it would, but it was hard to see when or how.

He would weather the storm because he had to, so he could see Merlin safely to the other side of it.


	11. Chapter 11

_(Two and a half months ago) _

Arthur set the drinks down on the table. Merlin gulped his lemonade thirstily, the chill from the ice cubes sending a shiver through his body. He kept his head down, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone else. Arthur could almost feel how uncomfortable Merlin was from where he sat beside him. They had arranged this meeting at the pub, and Merlin and Arthur had some explaining to do.

It wasn't going to be pretty.

Lance came back from the bathroom, and settled into his seat. Gwen smiled at him and took his hand under the table. The scabs on her face weren't as bad as Merlin had been expecting them to be. There hadn't been any need for stitches, and luckily she hadn't been caught in the eye, so there was no worry about her being blinded from the attack. The scabs that _were_ there still weren't pretty though, marring her otherwise beautiful face.

Merlin ducked his head back down after taking in Gwen's face, his cheeks flushed in shame.

"About the other night," Arthur began, "I just want to apologise-"

"Look mate, we've already said it's fine. We just want to know what's going on. What the hell happened back there?" Lance cut Arthur off, speaking for both him and Gwen, who quickly piped up.

"Not that you have to tell us anything you don't want to! I'm sure there was a good reason for it, don't feel like you have to tell us if you'd rather not."

"Gwen, that's very kind of you but –"

Arthur was cut off again, this time by Merlin.

"I see my dead mother. And I get scared. I wasn't expecting you two to be there and I guess it just set me off even more. I panicked, I'm sorry."

There was a stunned silence as Gwen and Lance tried to take in what Merlin had just blurted out.

"Sorry. That was a bit abrupt. But it's out in the open now." Merlin made a half-assed attempt at apologising which hung in the air awkwardly. "I figured it would be easier to get that bit over and done with."

He tried to ignore the worried look he was getting from Gwen. He didn't need her worry, he was coping just fine. Well, not 'just fine', but close enough. Kind of.

Lance's brow was creased with concern and confusion as he tried to process Merlin's outburst. It was so far off what he had been expecting – drugs, alcohol, panic attack – but not _hallucinations. _

"You see your dead mother?" He eventually managed to choke out.

"Err…yeah. I have for a while. I don't know, a few months maybe?"

"Is there anything else you need to tell us about this? Because I'd really appreciate it if you kept talking whilst I figure out what to say."

Merlin looked at Arthur for help, seeming to struggle with the idea of explaining his hallucinations without assistance. Ever the gentleman, Arthur stepped in.

"Do you remember that night a few months ago when Merlin was ill? Well, it took him a while to tell me about it, but it turns out that's when he saw Hunith for the first time. I mean, he'd been having trouble sleeping, so I just put it down to exhaustion playing tricks on him, but it didn't stop there." Arthur paused to take a sip of his beer, but before he could continue Merlin took up the story.

"I started seeing my Mum more often, and since I see her at night and the whole thing was freaking me out, I've not been sleeping very well. So I dropped out of uni because I couldn't keep up with the work since I was always so fatigued, and that helped a bit, because I didn't have to try and hide the fact I see my dead mother when at home, because Arthur already knew about it by then. But it's not gotten any better, it just kept getting worse, and I panicked more and more often and…"

"When Gwen and I stopped by the flat you were expecting Arthur, not us, and that just added to the panic, right?" Lance finished Merlin's speech for him.

Merlin just nodded. Now that he'd been reminded about what had happened he didn't want to talk about it. He just repeated his apology again.

"Merlin, it's okay. I understand what happened now. I just got caught in the crossfire, no big deal. Look, I'm not hurt badly – these scabs will be gone in a week or so – and then we can forget all about it, hmm?" Gwen knew Merlin still felt guilty, but she had to do _something_ to make him see that she didn't blame him. She honestly didn't blame him, a concept which Merlin was reluctant to accept – Gwen wasn't sure he truly believed her when he and Arthur headed home for the night.

As Arthur was walking to the door behind Merlin, Lance grabbed his arm before he could leave.

"Hey, could I talk to you for a sec?"

"Yeah sure, what is it?"

"I'm worried about Merlin. I mean, obviously you are too, but Arthur – he was _violent._ If these hallucinations have gotten to the point where he's hurting other people I think you need to do something about them."

Arthur stepped back, shaking his head.

"No, no, we're fine. It was just this once Lance. He's never done it before. We'll be fine."

"Arthur, you're not listening to me. You don't know he won't do it again. I'm sure he didn't mean to, but he needs help – the kind of help we can't give him."

"I already said, we're managing with this just fine Lance. I appreciate your concern bu-"

"_Arthur._ He hurt my girlfriend. I've forgiven him but I can't let it slide. I know you hate admitting that anything's wrong but _please _listen to me. He needs professional he-"

"No, he doesn't. We're just fine."

"Are you sure you mean that? Or are you just trying to convince yourself of it? Look Arthur, I don't want to argue about this, but it if you won't get help for him then I will."

Arthur stared at his friend, shocked at what he had just said. He walked out of the pub.

What Lance had said plagued his thoughts all the way home.


	12. Chapter 12

_(Present day)_

Arthur pulled off his tie and left it in the car before climbing out and making his way to the front desk so he could go see Merlin again. It was such a normal routine now, he didn't realise it had even become a habit.

He knocked gently on the door before entering the room. Merlin glanced up from the book he was reading, put the bookmark in and gestured for Arthur to sit. He knew they needed to talk.

"About yesterday…I'm sorry."

Arthur waved off his apology. He knew Merlin was sorry. That wasn't why he'd come.

"You know I'm never going to leave you, right? You do know that?" He asked instead.

"I…yeah, I know that Arthur. I do. It's just hard to remember sometimes."

"I know it is, but you have to try. I'm not leaving Merlin. I swear that I won't ever leave you. I'm here because I want to be, because I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"I –"

"No, wait, I'm not done. Just let me get this out." Merlin nodded for Arthur to go ahead. "I believe in you. I believe that you can get better and that you'll be able to come home, and I need you to believe me when I say those things, because they're true. You may not believe in yourself very much right now, but you will with time, and I'll give you that time. I'll give you all the time in the world Merlin. As long as we get through this, and I know we will."

"Arthur, I –" Merlin bowed his head, unsure what to say in response to Arthur's heartfelt speech. "Thank you. I think maybe if you believe in me, I can start to believe in myself again. Just, thank you."

They talked about this'n'that for the rest of the visit, nothing of any particular importance, which was lucky because Merlin's mind was elsewhere.

He'd decided, as Arthur had been talking to him, that he _would _try, for Arthur's sake. He owed him that much. If the guy was willing to stay through everything that had happened, then surely Merlin owed it to him to try and get better.

Maybe if Arthur believed in him, that would be all it took. Maybe that would be enough for him to find that which he'd thought he'd lost. After all, if Arthur believed he could get better, then maybe he would.

And he knew exactly where to start trying.

Arthur had long gone, and the nurses had come round to dose him up with the various drugs that were meant to keep him calm when Merlin decided it was time. The tranquilizers should have kicked in by now, so hopefully, if things went wrong, he wouldn't set himself back by a few months.

He knew it was risky, trying to do this.

He knew that if it went wrong, it would go _very _wrong.

He felt the fear and anticipation begin to build in his chest. Fear of failure, fear of Hunith, fear of the fear he was feeling. But it was okay. He could do this.

He _could_.

Right?


	13. Chapter 13

_(Three weeks later) _

Merlin clambered into the car and clicked his seatbelt into place. He grinned across at Arthur who reached out to squeeze his knee.

The past few weeks had been a mess of paper work and regulations, trying to get Merlin released so he could finally go home. But, Arthur had eventually negotiated his way through the bureaucratic minefield and Merlin was free to go. He had strict instructions not to miss the future psychiatrist's appointments and not to skimp on taking the prescribed medication which rattled in the paper bag he had clutched in one hand as he and Arthur had walked through the corridors towards the hospital exit.

He was finally going home.

No, he wasn't fully better, not yet. But he would be, given time. And he had all the time in the world as long as Arthur was right there beside him. They would get through the remnants of the storm that refused to leave just yet. They would do it together.

**(A/N: **That's it folks! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!)


	14. Chapter 14

_(Three weeks later) _

Merlin clambered into the car and clicked his seatbelt into place. He grinned across at Arthur who reached out to squeeze his knee.

The past few weeks had been a mess of paper work and regulations, trying to get Merlin released so he could finally go home. But, Arthur had eventually negotiated his way through the bureaucratic minefield and Merlin was free to go. He had strict instructions not to miss the future psychiatrist's appointments and not to skimp on taking the prescribed medication which rattled in the paper bag he had clutched in one hand as he and Arthur had walked through the corridors towards the hospital exit.

He was finally going home.

No, he wasn't fully better, not yet. But he would be, given time. And he had all the time in the world as long as Arthur was right there beside him. They would get through the remnants of the storm that refused to leave just yet. They would do it together.

**(A/N: **That's it folks! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!)


End file.
